Painted Red
by eeponinee
Summary: It's modern day Paris, and once again a divide between the rich and the poor is threatening peace in the city. Enjolras is the leader of a group hoping for a change. As Enjolras struggles to lead his friends in a rebellion, he becomes entangled in a love triangle. Rebellion and romance will change Enjolras and his friends forever: for better or worse. E/E/M.
1. Waking

_Hi! This is my first fanfic in a while, and I hope you enjoy. The story holds the same basic plot as the novel, musical, and movie, but there will be definite changes and outcomes. I would love to hear what you guys think :) Enjoy!_

**Chapter One**

**Waking**

The cool September air wafted through the open window; the sounds of a waking city filtering through into the large room.

Marius Pontmercy sat up, ruffling his messy hair and squinting his small green eyes. He slowly got out of his bed and put on a t-shirt before walking out to the kitchen where his grandfather, Monsieur Gillenormand sat.

"Bonjour, Marius."

"Bonjour, Grandpére."

Marius gazed outside at the beautiful city. Men, women, and children bustled about, the sounds of cars putting along and the rings of bike bells punctuated the Saturday morning chatter. Marius and his grandfather lived in the wealthiest part of Paris, in a beautiful penthouse apartment.

For most of his life, Marius has lived with his grandfather and attended an all boys academy in the city. Only recently had Marius begun to explore the other people in the city, those who were not as wealthy, those who were fierce and vocal about their disagreements with the French government. A knock on the door sounded.

"Marius! Open up!" a deep voice sounded.

Marius quickly strode over and unlocked the door. Enjolras and Courfeyrac, two fairly new friends of his, stood outside bouncing with excitement. "You have to come to the café," Courfeyrac whispered, so that Marius's _bourgeois_ grandfather would not hear him. Marius glanced back quickly at his grandpa, who was looking up from his crossword puzzle.

"Grandpére, it's Arthur. He needs help for his exams. We're going to the library," Marius lied, speaking of his rich friend from the academy.

"All right. Not in that state, however," his grandfather replied, before returning to his puzzle. Once Gillenormand began a puzzle, he would not lose focus until it was finished.

Marius knew that his other friends would not care about his outfit of a t-shirt and blue jeans, but the Pontmercy boy had a reputation among the _bourgeois_. He quickly ran to his room and put on trousers and a blazer, washed up, and combed back his ashen blond hair.

"Goodbye, grandpére!" Marius said before dashing out the door.

The three young men walked down the corridor and into the gated elevator.

"God, you look so _rich_," Enjolras scoffed, flashing his white grin. Marius smiled at the jest. His blazer and trousers did look quite out of place next to Enjolras's jeans and worn leather jacket, and Courfeyrac's dusty button-down.

The elevator reached the apartment complex's lobby. An elderly woman dressed in mink smiled warmly at Marius, but was clearly displeased with Enjolras's and Courfeyrac's presence in the lobby. The three dashed out the door and down the street.

"Everyone's at ABC," Courfeyrac said as they made their way down the crowded streets. The further and further Marius went out of the rich district, the fewer greetings he got from socialites. It was as if the air was changing. The stiff collared men and delicate women turned into weathered, gruff men, and fierce, hardy women. The light air turned edgy and electric.

The men turned a corner and onto a dank off-street. There was the ABC Café. Through the windows one could see a group of mostly college-aged young men boisterously chanting and having some drinks. The café was not very special to most, but this group of around fifteen had made it theirs.

When the trio entered, they were greeted with cheers. "Look who decided to show up!" an already inebriated man called. Grantaire, who was notorious for his drinking and his temper. He hobbled over to Enjolras and patted him on the back, sending a sharp glare to Marius as he did so. It seemed as if Grantaire was growing jealous over the bond that Marius was forming with Enjolras.

"Ah, off to the theater are we, Pontmercy?" Grantaire jeered, mimicking a _bourgeois_ tone. Enjolras sent him a warning glance, and Grantaire backed off. The men settled in, and Enjolras stood at the head of the table.

"Men!" he boomed. "The time to attack is coming soon. We will have no choice but to rebel against the fascist ways of our government." Enjolras had the capability to hold a room. No one spoke; they all stared intently at their leader. "A week from today, we will rise!" The crowd cheered, clinking their mugs of beer.

Enjolras stepped down and grabbed a drink himself, before joining his closest friends.


	2. Éponine

**Chapter Two**

**Éponine**

Across from the ABC Café stood a young woman, no more than eighteen. She was lean, dressed in loose jeans and an old sweater; her long brown hair hung down below her shoulders. Her deep brown eyes lit up at the sight of some of her close friends. This was Éponine Thénardier.

Éponine had grown close to the Friends of the ABC. Courfeyrac, who she had known since she was young, was much like a big brother to her. She watched the men play cards and drink beer as the evening fell over Paris. _Perhaps she would join_, she thought.

"'Ponine!" a young voice called. Éponine's younger brother, Gavroche ran towards her. Eponine's lips curled into a smile. "Where have you been all day?" she asked. His dirty face and grimy hands proved he had been playing in the alleys. "Oh, nothing," he replied. "Can we go to the café?" he asked hopefully.

Éponine considered this for a short moment. Her parents would not care at all, plus Gavroche has been around the Friends of ABC many times before and has not caused any trouble. "Come on, little one."

The pair crossed the street, Gavroche nearly skipping from excitement. She opened the door, and the men turned.

"The Thénardiers!" Courfeyrac shouted over the loud music. Gavroche ran to Courfeyrac, who he loved like a father. Éponine smiled as she strode across the room, unaware of the stares she got.

Éponine was quite beautiful. She did not know it at all, of course. She thought that no one could find a poor thing like herself pretty. She was only concerned with one boy finding her pretty: Marius Pontmercy. She was enamored with him. How he treated these poor men as he would treat any of his rich friends.

"Evening, Marius."

"'Ponine!" he smiled.

She loved how he called her 'Ponine, a named reserved only for those she held closest. Her heart racing, she sat beside him. "Care for a drink?" he asked. Éponine agreed, taking a glass of wine from his hands.

After a few glasses each, Marius and Éponine were being as boisterous as the other men, laughing loudly and playfully arguing.

"Care to dance?" Marius asked, holding out his hand.

"Why of course, Monsieur," 'Ponine smirked.

The two danced gleefully for a long time. Éponine's wide grin took up half her face. Joy hung in the air. Not even Grantaire had a frown on his face. But Enjolras did. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't. He looked quietly at Éponine and Marius; envy surging through his veins.

"Oy, Enjolras. What's eating you?" Grantaie asked, taking yet another swig of beer.

"Nothing." Enjolras faked a smile.

Grantaire chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "She's really something, isn't she?" Grantaire teased, keeping his pale eyes fixed on Éponine.

Enjolras's jaw tightened. "Yeah. She's beautiful."

Grantaire was aware just how Enjolras felt, and he had no intentions of letting it go. "Do you think I'd have a chance with her? She's had a few drinks."

"No. You can't do that. Besides, she is clearly in love with someone else," Enjolras hissed, looking up at Marius and the girl.

"Oh, that little bastard. Wonder what she sees in him," Grantaire grumbled. Enjolras ignored him, pouring himself a glass of wine.

Éponine stumbled to the table. "Hello, boys," she said breathlessly. Enjolras smiled weakly at her. "Where's Gavroche?" she asked. Enjolras pointed across the room.

Gavroche and Courfeyrac were engaged in playful arm wrestling. "Gavroche!" Éponine shouted. "It's getting late. Let's go." Her little brother reluctantly obliged, saying goodbye to the men he so admired.

Éponine hesitated briefly at the door, hoping that Marius would perhaps walk her home or kiss her cheek goodnight. "Good night, 'Ponine!" he called, very sleepily. "Hope to see you soon."

Éponine smiled as she walked out the door, though a twinge of disappointment could not be ignored. "Come on, little one," she said, swinging her arm around Gavroche.

The nighttime air was chilly, the street lamps casting a glow over the gray buildings. The streets were beginning to empty. Either everyone was already at the bars or settled in at home. The brother and sister walked briskly down the main street, before turning into a dingy alley.

They made their way up steep stairs and into a tiny house that smelled of cheap alcohol. Quietly, Éponine opened the door and led Gavroche in, telling him to run off to bed.

"'Ponine, 'Ponine, 'Ponine!" Monsieur Thénardier called. "It's so late, my girl!" he struggled to get up from his seat in front of the television.

Éponine stiffened. The only time her father greeted her so cheerfully was when he needed something. "Hello, father."

"Listen, my sweet. Your mother and I, we uh, we need some money."

"Why don't you just pick pocket?" Éponine snarled. He has had no problem in the past stealing.

He chuckled. "Oh, 'Ponine! You see. Why Azelma, she is too scared of the streets. And little Gavroche too young. We just need some quick money."

Eponine scoffed. She knew she had to agree or she would see the consequences. Without a word, she nodded and turned back out the door and into the night.


	3. In the Night

**Chapter Three**

**In the Night**

Éponine quickly walked back to the main street, avoiding the greedy stares of intoxicated men. She was used to being out on the streets late at night. This was hardly the first time that her parents had asked her to bring home money at the last minute.

Unlike her parents, 'Ponine was bothered by stealing and preferred to make the cash in other ways. She often sang on the corner and would collect about a hundred euros in a couple of hours. Tonight, there were few people left on the streets, save for the homeless and a dozen or so college students.

Éponine grew nervous; a knot forming in her stomach. She moved down the street until she reached a familiar corner. Glancing down the street, she hoped that some of her friends would still be in the Café. Disappointed, Éponine sunk to the ground. She would not cry. She never cried.

But this life was beginning to tire Éponine. She knew she would never go to university. She knew she would never leave the city. She had nothing to look forward to, save for perhaps marrying.

"'Ponine! Is that you?"

Éponine looked up, startled. She smiled, relieved. "Marius."

He jogged to her and knelt beside her. "Why are you out so late, 'Ponine?"

"I could ask the same to you, Monsieur," she answered with a slight smirk.

"Shockingly, Grantaire was too drunk to get home on his own safely," Marius sarcastically explained. "So, Enjolras and I walked him back to En's place. Your turn."

Éponine hesitated. She couldn't tell the truth to Marius without him offering her money. Éponine did not want to seem like a poor little beggar to the man she was so in love with. "Just on a walk. I couldn't sleep."

He looked at her with a doubtful expression painted on his youthful face. He held her gaze with this look.

"What is it?"

"I hardly believe that, Éponine."

She folded under his gaze. "My father sent me out to get money for food. Though, we all know he'll spend it all on cheap scotch and whores."

Marius was taken aback by the harshness with which the normally cheery girl answered him. He knew that Éponine's parents were essentially scum, but he had never heard her talk about them. In fact, he had never gone beyond small talk and joking around with her.

"And I have no damn way of making a hundred euros before tomorrow morning without doing something I really cannot do. And before you offer me your money know that I really cannot accept it, Monsieur." Éponine was frantic.

Marius breathed a small smile and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small leather wallet. He withdrew a hundred euro bill and carefully handed it to Éponine, who did not hold her hands out.

"Marius, I can't."

"You can pay me back. Whenever you can." He knew telling her this would make her feel better, though he could not care less about getting the money back.

She looked into his intense green eyes, full of warmth. She silently took the bill from his hands and carefully folded it up and put it into her pant pocket.

"Thank you." Éponine reached over and hugged Marius in her gratitude. "Thank you." He returned the embrace, kissing the girl on her forehead. Éponine's stomach flipped, and it took all her might to hide a schoolgirl grin.

"Do you need me to walk you home?" the young man asked, pulling away from the hug.

"Oh, no. I'll be quite fine. It's only a few minutes, Monsieur," she replied, standing up. "Are you sure?" he asked, clearly worried about her.

"I've done it a million times before, Marius. Thank you, though. I'll see you soon, I hope."

"I hope so, too."

With that, the pair separated, Marius walking towards the Metro station, and Éponine returning to main street.

Éponine, bursting with excitement from the little kiss, halfway skipped down the street. _Could Marius feel the same way about her as she did about him?_ The thought had raced through the girl's mind since the day she first met him, but it was becoming realer and realer with each encounter.

A sharp whistle interrupted Éponine's racing mind. She turned to see a filthy man dressed in tattered clothing. His eyes were the same deep brown as hers, but his looked nearly black with desperation.

"He gave you money down there, didn't he? That rich little man." His breath reeked, and it was warm on Éponine's face. She didn't answer.

"Didn't he?!" the man shouted, advancing.

"Piss off," Éponine hissed.

He grabbed her arm, squeezing tightly. As she began to scream, a younger man, equally as grubby, came out from behind a shop and thrust his dirty hand over her mouth. The first man shoved his hand into 'Ponine's pocket and pulled out the euro bill.

Éponine flung her foot up, kicking him in the jaw. "You brat!" he snarled. He swung his arm back and struck the girl in the face. She fell to the ground but quickly got up, throwing herself into the fight.

She felt the warm, red liquid running down her face, but adrenaline allowed her to ignore it. She began to claw at their hands, desperate for the cash. "Just give me my money!" she cried, her voice shaking. They both guffawed, showing their dirty, disfigured teeth.

"Stay off the streets, pretty thing," the older man said thrusting her against a brick wall. Éponine crumbled to the ground, battered, bruised, and defeated. As she drifted into unconsciousness, she heard a faint voice calling her name.


End file.
